Dark Christmas – Chase’s POV Scene

The road to Belfrost was almost impossible to see that night.

Chase had been driving for hours, his fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel as the snowstorm thickened around him. The sky above the forest was pitch-black, the kind of darkness that seemed to swallow sound and light alike. Only the harsh white glare of his headlights carved a narrow path through the swirling snow.

He hated winter. He hated slow driving. And he really hated being late.

But Evan had asked him to come, and Chase wasn’t the type to ignore his younger brother—no matter how much he pretended not to care.

The engine hummed steadily, a familiar comfort. The cold air that seeped through the vents kept him sharp, awake. His black coffee sat untouched in the cup holder, already cold, but strong enough to punch through even a Scorpio’s patience.

He pushed the speed slightly—just enough to feel the car respond, to remind himself he was still in control.

Belfrost’s woods were dense, tall pines bending under the weight of fresh snow. The road cut through them like a lonely scar, silent and empty for miles. Even with his love for danger and adrenaline, there was something eerie about the night… something that made the hairs on his arms stand up beneath his jacket.

Then— A movement.

Just at the edge of his vision.

Something dark crossed the beam of the headlights, quick but unmistakably human.

Chase’s reaction was instant. His foot slammed the brake, tires skidding over the icy road as the car jerked violently. Snow exploded upward, and the backend wavered dangerously before finally stabilizing. The bumper stopped just inches from the figure ahead.

For a moment, Chase sat frozen, breath sharp in his chest. He didn’t get scared easily—but nearly hitting someone in the middle of a blizzard would rattle anyone.

Slowly, he leaned forward, narrowing his dark brown eyes.

The shape resolved into a boy standing in the snow. Pretty one. His outline was illuminated by the headlights, the falling snow catching in his hair.

The boy wasn’t moving. Just standing there. Like he’d been waiting.

Chase clicked his tongue, grabbed his coat, and stepped out of the car. The wind hit him instantly—cold enough to burn—but he barely flinched. He’d survived worse. Much worse.

Boots crunching through the snow, he walked toward the figure. He kept his posture relaxed but ready, instinct always pushing him to stay alert. This forest didn’t exactly have a friendly reputation… and neither did Chase.

When he was close enough to see the boy’s face, he let out a short breath, somewhere between annoyance and disbelief.

“Seriously?” He muttered under his breath.

Snowflakes clung to the boy’s lashes. His skin looked pale. Anyone else might’ve panicked—or felt sympathy.

Chase felt irritation first.

And then… something he didn’t like to name. Something dangerously close to concern, the kind he pretended he wasn’t capable of.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, tilted his head slightly, and let his voice drop into its usual low, dry tone.

Finally, he spoke:

“You know, I’m no expert, but I don’t think you chose the best weather for a walk, dear.”